Honour Bound
by Shiyaki
Summary: "He was magnificent to watch in any case. So much, in fact, that Therius forgot, for a split-second only, why he was even there."


**Disclaimer: **I unfortunately don't own Harry Potter (or I would be very rich and would have done different things with the characters) and neither do I own The Last Story.

**Author's note**: Nobody will probably be reading this story or at least not review it, because it's a unusual crossover and I think it's the first TLS crossover on this side in general. This had to be written anyway, even though Therius was ridiculously hard to write. I hope, I did at least a decent job.

**Rating: M**

**Warning: **probably disturbing themes, spoilers for The Last Story, slash

The first time he saw _Him_, there was screaming, fire and blood.

Wooden houses were a blaze, the still living people were huddling or running around in blind panic, begging for mercy without being heard by their assaulters. From time to time a blood-curling scream pierced the night, intermingled with malicious laughter. Seldom had he been more disgusted by mankind. Was there no honour left on earth?

But inbetween the chaos and rubble, in the thick of things, there he was - The only person left to fight. And fight he did. He dodged the attacks directed at him with fluent movements, while delivering his own with magic Therius had never seen before. He wasn't quite graceful, but certainly as skilled as the best of them. He was magnificent to watch in any case. So much, in fact, that Therius forgot, for a split-second only, why he was even there.

His travel with General Asthar had brought them to a more secluded area in the country, while moving from one city to the next. The wilderness was only interlaminated with a few scattered villages here and there. In one of those villages they had stopped to spend the night. Not being comfortable with being defenseless in such an unprotected environment – call him paranoid – he had only removed the most uncomfortable parts of his armour.

A couple of hours into the night his precautions had been vindicated. Noise outside the house they were staying in, had awoken and alerted him – and General Asthar – to the flaming inferno on the horizon. Some questioning of the villagers later revealed it to be another village just ten to fifteen minutes running distance away. Ever being the knights they had set out for their rescuing mission immediately.

Upon arrival they were treated to a gruesome view. By the looks of it more than a dozen armed men had set fire to the houses - which now burned slowly to the ground – and killed most of the men, whose bloody bodies were strewn at large across the village. The unknown man had already dealt with some of the assaulters, but was still outnumbered, majorly, Therius grudgingly admitted to himself, because they actually showed some skill in handling a sword and he could also spot a mage or two - One of them probably being the one who had started the fires.

Therius shook his head to regain his focus and joined the fray to exterminate some vermin, which, with the combined prowess of the three of them, was quickly dealt with. Afterwards, when the immediate threat was over, he could resume his inspection of the man, who, at the moment, tried to extinguish the fires with some sort of water magic. Therius idly noticed, that the man was not floating. He was young, maybe about his age, and had dark hair. It was getting progressively harder to discern more in the slowly dwindling light of the fire, until it was nigh impossible to see much under the light of the moon.

General Asthar had, in the meanwhile, approached the villagers to calm them down and to see which condition the survivors were in. It was probably better that way; Therius wasn't much of a people's person, the contrary was rather the case. He was known to consciously and unconsciously affront people in many cases – which he was still often scolded for by the General -, so dealing with scared civilians maybe wasn't the best of ideas at the moment.

"It's a good thing you came, when you did. I was in a bit of a pinch, when those bloody bandits kept multiplying and started to surround me. So… thanks, I guess." The man had finally finished his task and turned towards him. The peculiar stick in his hands was emitting a soft, but still bright light, which brightened at least several feet around it.

"That will not be necessary. Protecting those weaker is a knight's duty after all," Therius replied with conviction, while resheathing his sword. The man stared at him with an inscrutable look, which inevitably prompted the white-haired man to revise his statement, to see if he had offended the man somehow. He couldn't see anything wrong with his words - not consider that his statement could be seen as a slight to the man, who had fought with him on par -, but was too proud to press the subject, so ignored it for the moment.

The man stared for a couple more seconds, before a small, amused smile flittered over his face. "Very honourable, Sir Knight. I've been in this country for less than a month and I've already seen enough men of your occupation who didn't think like you. It's nice to see at least some knights who are still chivalrous."

Therius had to secretly agree, but did not want to do it in front of a stranger. Many knights had lost their way in this time of prevailing peace or had not been on it from the beginning. "You are not from here then," Therius surmised. That made the man's feat all the more respectable to him. "You displayed a remarkable skill in the art of magic. I have never before seen a person who is proficient in more than one or two branches."

The man scratched the back of his head – Therius slightly frowned at that – and offered a somewhat sheepish smile. "I've studied all kinds of magic for years, but that's normal where I come from. Only after seven years, when we have studied the basics of different branches of magic, most of us focus on a specific one, like healing for example. And speaking of healing, I probably should go and see if anyone-" here the raven-haired man's expression turned grim, conveying, without words, that not too many people had even survived. "-needs medical attention. It was really nice to meet you." Therius inclined his head, before he also went to help.

Not until morning the next day, when they had already departed after a mostly sleepless night of helping the villagers, did he notice that they had never introduced themselves.

* * *

"How do you get into these kinds of situations? Well, I'm probably not one to talk, but seriously!"

In another village, several months later, but under similar circumstances, they met yet again, only this time General Asthar and Therius – and some additional knights – were on-site first. The man – Therius still didn't know his name – just popped into existence some feet away from him. He would think about that and the man's surprisingly good timing later, when they weren't in danger of being eaten or killed by half a dozen giant spiders. Their swords didn't do all that much damage - the spider's shell was too thick - and the only knight who had a bit of magic knowledge, was only proficient in fire magic, which did not work either.

"I guess, this would be what Aragog possessed by Voldemort would look like." The man shuddered a bit, but promptly commenced to cast magic at the huge beasts. The first few spells – never the same one - didn't show any results, until some sort of ice spell hit the first spider at full force and knocked it back. It took several more of those apparently draining spells for the spiders to lie dead on their backs, their legs drawn-in.

The man – he really should ask for his name – fell over, obviously exhausted, but was caught by the visibly intrigued General, who carefully helped him to the ground. "Steady there, son. That was an amazing show of power you presented us with. Yet again, I might add. Though, I _would_ appreciate you informing us how you knew when and where to… appear. And how you did it." Some branches of magic were very well known, the elemental and healing variant for example, but never had a mage just popped into existence – It was rather suspicious.

"Yes… funny story that." The man laughed unconvincingly and let his gaze slowly wander over the spider carcases and the empty, mostly intact houses. Finally, he sighed, when the piercing gazes didn't lift away from him. "It's my saving-people-thing. Or my Gryffindor-ness, I guess." The man shrugged and did his back-of-head-scratching again. It annoyed Therius a bit. In his opinion, it was a gesture of the weak and the man was anything but. "The last time we met, I put a charm on you, which alerts me when you're in danger. Of course I would never intervene in a personal fight or something, I know you knights, but I thought you wouldn't say no to some help, like now."

They waited for more information – they still didn't know how the man had appeared out of thin air -, but none was forthcoming. This time not even staring or further prompting helped. The man heaved another sigh, this time an annoyed sounding one, and brushed through his hair with one hand. "Look, I don't plan to tell you my whole life story in the near future. I'm not an enemy and neither have I any ulterior motives, so could we please cut this interrogation short? I'm knackered."

They were still suspicious – The man was like none they had ever met before, after all, and who knew what his agenda was? Helping once, alright, but doing it twice and even going out of his way to do it? And he _had_ cast some sort of spell on them. -, but the man had helped them and several civilians as well and at least appeared to be a very honourable person, so they gave him the benefit of the doubt and let the matter rest. For now.

At least introductions were finally – finally! - being made.

Harry.

For such an extraordinary person the name was extraordinarily plain. He said so – at least the plain part of it. The words were out of his mouth, before he had thought better of it and without looking he knew a disapproving frown to be on General Asthar's face. He tried, really he did, but the fighting aspect of chivalry and being his honour bound self came to him much easier than keeping his mouth in check sometimes, especially when he felt strongly for something. This was one of those times.

Surprisingly, instead of being angry about Therius' words like many before him had proven to be, the man - Harry! - started to laugh.

"I _could_ argue that I and the ancestors on my father's side are named for kings from my home country – no, I won't go into that, so don't get your hopes up -, but you're right. Harry _is_ pretty plain. I kind of like it, though. Better than… let's see… Mundungus or something."

Possible enemy or not, he had started to think of Harry as a congenial person.

* * *

"One of these days I'll show up and find you dead."

Therius hissed, but refused to show any other signs of pain, when his injury was prodded some more. He had removed part of his armour and was currently under Harry's mercy. Even with another skilled knight sitting not that far away, it would have been easy to kill him with a knife or even a spell at such close proximity. That he had his back turned to the other man was therefore a good sign how far they had come during the last year or so. Neither General Asthar nor he knew much more about Harry's origins or his uncommon magical powers, but nowadays they felt certain about his genuine helpfulness. The General had once commented on it and told the raven-haired man how good a knight he would make, but Harry had countered with his issue concerning authorities and following orders and that had been that.

"Yes, I think, I can heal this." 'This' being some sort of nerve poison, which was paralysing his right arm and shoulder, while still making it feel like his flesh was burning off continuously. He **hated** ambushes, they were cowardly, but it unfortunately did not change the fact, that he had been hit by an arrow during it. Straight into his right shoulder. It did not change the fact, that he had still defeated the enemies with his other arm, after switching his sword to his left hand, either. Therius would never admit it out loud, but he _did_ feel somewhat smug about it.

Moments later he felt the healing magic slowly seep into his body and was a bit surprised about the sensation. Normal healing magic felt warm and light, this, on the other hand, felt… he did not actually know how to describe the feeling. It was not unpleasant, though. It kind of tingled – which was good, because it meant he got feeling back into the paralysed parts of his anatomy. The involuntary shuddering was a bit embarrassing however, especially after seeing the strange, little smirk the General was directing at him. What was that all about?

"Are you alright? Hm, I guess, it feels a little strange, if you're not used to it, but I'm almost finished." Therius gave a curt nod and this time, when he actually felt Harry touch his wound through the tear in his garment to examine the result, without the sensation of pain, he repressed the recurring shudder.

There was no reason for it after all.

* * *

What a long-awaited wedding ceremony could result into…

The General was dead – Not even in a fight, but in one of those cowardly ambushes he hated. -, the Count had disappeared, Lord Jirall was imprisoned and Lazulis was overrun with Guraks.

Now here he was, fighting for Lazulis and its people with a bunch of the slightly – but not particularly - less pathetic excuses for knights. And while the mass of oncoming enemies – not to mention those huge flying monsters - was seemingly endless, the number of his own men was quickly dwindling, either by death or desertion. Surrender was not an option, though, not for him. He would win or die trying.

A trusted ally who had his back would have been nice, however. He knew at least one such person, even how to get them here, but was not quite sure if he wanted to risk calling them. The last time they had met, Harry had given him something he had called a 'reverse portkey', because the effect of his tracking spell seemed to weaken with each time cast. Still, it wasn't Harry's war to fight – that was the reason he hadn't called him sooner - and the odds were massively against them.

Being abandoned by the rest of the knights decided it. Therius took a deep breath – while defending against a couple of Guraks simultaneously – and enunciated the activation phrase in the foreign language as best as possible. Fortunately he was already touching the special kind of portkey with his bare skin – it was one of the studs in his left ear. Using it, would have proven to be tricky otherwise.

Mere seconds later Harry appeared right next to him, dodging an oncoming attack probably instinctively. The Guraks were bewildered about the newcomer and Harry seemed to be confused about his impromptu travel directly to a battlefield. It all worked out then.

"We've _got_ to stop meeting like this." Therius frowned, actually unsure about the wisdom of his decision. "Should I not have called you? You gave me this port-" "No, no, not what I meant," Harry interrupted and quickly disposed of some enemies in a – from a civilians point of view – disturbingly bloody way. The wounds looked remarkably like the signs of a trigger-happy – well, rather knive-happy in this case – person.

"It's just… I'm happy to see you, but it would be nice to meet up without a life-or-death situation for a change, you know? What are we fighting against anyway?" Therius' lips involuntarily curled into a slight smile. It was astounding, how much more optimistic he was about their victory with Harry at his side. Maybe it was due to the fact, that the black-haired man had been part of most of the more dangerous fights during the last year.

"They are Guraks. They have attacked us several times during the last month and now they have a swimming fortress with even more manpower. For an indepth explanation you'll have to wait for after the fight." This seemed to be the cue for the mercenaries to show up, because that's what they did – rather boisterously. Some of them stared in confusion at Harry, who was obviously not a knight, but, to their credit, didn't stand around idly while doing it. They had grown on him, kind of like fungus.

After awhile the flood of new enemies seemed to abate, which was good, because even he started to feel rather winded after hours of fighting and it got harder and harder to drive the enemies back. But only after striking the last visible Gurak down – unfortunately not before it hit his sword arm – did he allow himself to sink onto one knee to take a breather.

A very bad idea it turned out to be, otherwise he wouldn't have to rescue Zeal and his leg wouldn't have to been impaled. He had his own inattention to blame, though. Damn it, getting stabbed really hurt –That would teach him to pay more attention in the future. If he lived that long.

"Can't leave your side, can I? You and your penchant for dramatic injuries, would have made an amazing Gryffindor." Zeal stared at the raven-haired man in disbelieve and opened his mouth to, no doubt, start a rant on the graveness of the situation or some such. Therius just started to chuckle, if a bit breathless. It _did_ hurt an awful lot after all. Harry ignored the brown-haired mercenary and crouched down in front of Therius to inspect the damage done to his leg.

"You should be glad it didn't hit more to the left. That would have been a future kill-joy." He heard several amused snorts, one certainly emitted by the rude red-head. Before Harry could start any form of magical treatment, he halted the other man to give Zeal the key to the sewers and an impromptu pep-talk. From what he had seen, he could depend on these mercenaries – a fact he would have laughed at mockingly some months prior -, which did not mean, he was happy about not being able to go with them, however.

The moment Zeal and co. were gone, the pain got worse, probably due to the fact that the sword had to be pulled out of his leg and there being no painless way of doing it. "Fine my arse. You're lucky it didn't hit your leg artery." Shaking his head, Harry started to knit the muscle tissue back together, until only an angry red scar was left behind. It still hurt a lot, but it was not as bad as before.

"I'm glad you're alright." Harry had assumed a kneeling position right next to him. All traces of humour were gone from his face. "You could have called me sooner, you know? I wouldn't have minded helping." Therius knew Harry wouldn't have, the other man had proven it time and time again. ""It wasn't your battle to fight. I shouldn't even have called you now." Therius didn't really want to think about what the raven was able to discern from his action.

"I'm happy you did." Before Therius was able to answer – or even think about a reply – he felt a hand in his hair and a pair of lips on his own. He froze for a moment, but quickly recovered from the shock and did the only thing possible – Kissing back.

Seconds or minutes later – he wasn't quite sure which – they drew back simultaneously and stared at each other. The smile was back on Harry's face, but had a somewhat different quality to it.

"Let's get you back to those sewers of yours."

* * *

The most recent time he saw _Him – even if it had only been a separation of several hours -_, there was – _sporadic_ – screaming, fire – _crackling in the fireplace_ – and _– if you looked close enough_ – blood.

There were also scorching kisses, soft moans and inquisitive touches over heated skin.

He may not be 'a hit with the ladies' as General Asthar used to say, but as long as he was 'a hit with Harry' he didn't mind in the least.


End file.
